Canzones di amore
by Eoin
Summary: Men and women fall in and out of love and express their emotion through baroque opera arias.
1. Non posso disperar

Non Posso Disperar

Non posso disperar!

Non posso disperar,

Sei troppo, troppo cara,

Troppo, troppo cara,

Sei troppo cara al cor.

Non posso disperar,

Sei troppo cara al cor.

Non posso disperar,

Sei troppo cara,

Sei troppo, troppo cara, cara al cor,

Sei troppo, troppo cara, cara al cor.

Il solo sperare,

Il solo sperare

D'aver a gioire

M'e un dolce languire,

M'e un caro dolor,

M'e un caro,

M'e un caro dolor.

Il solo sperare

D'aver a gioire

M'e un dolce languire

M'e un caro dolor

M'e un dolce languire,

M'e un caro dolor.

Non posso disperar!

Non posso disperar,

Sei troppo, troppo cara,

Troppo, troppo cara,

Sei troppo cara al cor.

Non posso disperar,

Sei troppo cara al cor.

Non posso disperar,

Sei troppo cara,

Sei troppo, troppo cara, cara al cor,

Sei troppo, troppo cara, cara al cor.

King Romulus strode into a small chamber. "Leave us," he barked at the guard standing at attention by the door. The guard bowed and left Romulus alone with Ericlea. Romulus approached her, but she gazed fixedly out the window, disregarding him.

"Ericlea?" he said. She ignored him. "You wish you were out there, don't you?" He sat down on the cot next to her. "You can be – if you marry me."

Her head snapped around. "I _have_ a husband."

"You _had_ a husband. _This_ is your home now."

"If you let me go back, I'll be happy. You want that, don't you?"

"I want you to be happy here. Besides, if you go back, you won't like what you find."

"What do you mean?"

Romulus looked at her soberly, then pulled a bracelet out of his pocket and handed it to her. She began to cry.

"Who-who killed him?"

"I couldn't say."

"P-please leave me."

Romulus sighed and rose to leave. He suddenly turned and grabbed her shoulders, pulling her to face him.

"Damn you, woman!" He pushed her to the cot and sat on her, pinning her. He waited until she stopped struggling, then leaned close to her and spoke. "I cannot despair. You are too dear to my heart. The only hope I have of happiness is a sweet languishing, a dear pain."

Ericlea looked at him strangely. Romulus gave a derisive grunt and left.


	2. O cessate di piagarmi

O cessate di piagarmi

O lasciatemi morir

Luci ingrate

Dispietate

Piu di gelo e piu de marmi

Fredde e sorde a miei martir

O cessate di piagarmi

O lasciatemi morir

Piu d'un angue, piu d'un aspe

Crudi e sordid a' miei sospir

Occhi alteri

Ciechi e fieri

Voi potete risanarmi

E godete al mio languir

O cessate di piagarmi

O lasciatemi morir

O cease to wound me

O let me die

Eyes ungrateful

Pitiless

More of ice and more of marble

Cold and deaf to my tortures

O cease to wound me

O let me die

More than a serpent, more than an asp

Cruel and deaf to my sighs

Eyes proud

Blind and cruel

You can again heal me

And you enjoy my languishing

I couldn't take it any more.

"Stop it!" I moaned. He didn't stop. He kept on talking, even took a step closer and leaned towards me as I bent away. The pressure of his words, and beautiful words they were, just as beautiful as he was, forced me down the wall, hugging my knees on the floor. "Please…" I didn't know if I even said the word, or just thought it, but he heard… and kept talking.

I couldn't take it anymore.

"Stop!" I screamed as I exploded outward. He stumbled back, his hair blown out of place, a look of surprise on his face. For once something I had done had fazed him. I stood up and tried to look him in the eye, but ended up looking at his feet.

"I – you – please…"

He smirked and shook his long, black, shiny hair back into place. I took a deep breath and realized that I had to address him on his own terms. In poetry. It was all he spoke, his beautiful words, and it was part of what made him so unbearable.

"Oh… cease to wound me. Oh let me die," I said bitterly, half to myself. Surprise flickered through his piercing blue eyes.

"Eyes ungrateful!" I spat. All those years in service…

"Pitiless!" He had never really cared for the trouble and pain I went through for him.

His icy façade seemed unbroken though I spoke to him as never before.

"More of ice and more of marble…" As the years passed he had seemed less human…

"Cold and deaf to my tortures," I said bitterly. He had never seen my pain, and I had learned not to show it. He looked me in the eyes and opened his mouth to speak. All I had just gained would be lost, he would destroy it. As he started speaking, I muttered to myself, "Oh cease to wound me, oh let me die," He stopped talking when I said die and a look of dismay crossed his perfectly sculpted face. He had never really listened to my talk of death before – he was always the expert – but now it seemed to affect him. Maybe he thought that I would finally pull away from him, maybe through death. But I had an opening.

""More than a serpent, more than an asp." Yes, he was most definitely more poisonous and slippery than a serpent or asp.

"Cruel and deaf to my sighs." But perhaps he was at last listening.

"You can again heal me," I said hopefully, and for a moment his face softened, but after an instantaneous internal struggle, visible on his face, it again turned smooth and icy.

"Yet you enjoy my languishing," I sighed. I closed my eyes, half-full of tears, and turned to face the wall. After a silence that seemed to stretch on for eternity, he took a step towards me. And another. His footfalls, soft though I knew they were, seemed to ring out like Hell's Bells as he approached me. It felt like another eternity for him to cross the narrow corridor. I felt him breathing and smelled his scent that I had for so long tried to emulate. I felt his hands on my shoulders and bowed my head. Any emotion he showed me now would be counterfeit, I knew. He had had enough opportunities to show me emotion over the years.

"Eoin," he breathed, and I breathed with him. I shuddered and shook my head.

"Eoin," he said again, urgently. I stiffened. A window appeared in the stone wall before me. Looking out, I could see a blue sky dotted with small white clouds. The sun shone brilliantly on the forests below and sparkled off the river.

"Eoin, listen to me."

"I've listened to you for thirty years."

"Please."

"No. Stop… tormenting me… and let… me… die." I stepped away from him and out the window. As I fell, I felt his… his pain. I had never felt emotion from him before. It was a little late now. And I laughed as I fell into the sun.


	3. Lydia

**_Note:_**_ Seska is the male protagonist's last name. Some people get confused by this.  
_

It was a dark and stormy night, of the sort common in New York. The storm was almost at its peak as I left the State Theater, and the rain pounded down on the streets, drenching my ankles. I decided that I'd rather pay for a cab than walk eighteen blocks. Most of the other patrons seemed to have the same idea, but I did manage to get a cab before my coat was soaked through. As I opened the door, another hatted and coated figure approached. After a moment's hesitation, I bowed her in – a woman by her shoes. The cab began to move, and the cabbie asked, " Where joo goin'?"

I gestured to her.

"125th between 6th and 7th," she said. She settled back and removed her hat, revealing blond tresses, pale skin, and rosy cheeks. She caught my eyes and blushed under my gaze.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Lydia," she said. "Thank you for sharing the cab."

"My pleasure." I dropped my eyes, then looked out the window into the rainy city.

"And you are?" she asked.

"Oh! I'm sorry. Seska, ma'am." I began to be able to smell her perfume, a light, rosy scent.

"Did you enjoy the opera?" I asked.

"Oh! Yes, very much. I've seen Butterfly before, but it's been a long time. It's a beautiful opera."

"Yes, it is. I saw it many times as a child. I grew up in Brooklyn. City Opera was nearly my second home for a while," I chuckled.

"What happened?"

"I was in the children's chorus for a few years, and I went to see operas about once a month… but then I left the chorus. I still went to operas, of course."

"That sounds wonderful. I didn't go to many operas, concerts, or plays as a child, but now I go often." She smiled.

The cab turned a corner, then paused. "Miss," the cabbie called back, "there's a big puddle ahead. I can't go through."

"We're only two blocks away. Let me walk you over," I said.

"Oh… all right. Thank you."

I paid the cabbie, then followed her out into the night. The wind blew the rain into our faces, so we walked silently. She stopped in front of a building.

"Thank you."

"Let me walk you up."

"Okay."

She unlocked the door, and I followed her in. I pushed the elevator button, and it came rather quickly.

"I live alone," she said over the creaking of the elevator.

I glanced at her. "Okay."

"I work at Macy's, in dresses. It's not bad."

"It sounds all right."

"What do you do?" She asked at the elevator creaked to a halt.

"Oh… a little bit of everything, when I get the chance. I spent today at the Metropolitan, and tonight at the opera, and probably tomorrow at the natural history museum."

"It sounds like fun," she laughed. "What's your day job?"

We paused in front of her apartment, and looked at each other. She slipped a card out of her pocket and handed it to me. I fumbled for a scrap of paper, scribbled on it, and passed it over.

"I'll call you, Seska," she said quietly, and went inside. I stared after her, then slowly left the building and went back to my hotel.

Weak sunlight sneaking around the curtains woke me the next day.

"Wsflgfl?"

I detached myself from my bedding and looked at the clock through sleep-crusted eyes.

"Eleven Ay Em?"

I jumped in the shower, then swore and ran over naked to the telephone.

"Hello, reception? Yes, good morning. Have any messages been left for room 704?"

I listened for a few minutes.

"All right. Thank you."

I jumped back into the shower, dressed hurriedly, and headed uptown.

"I'm sorry I'm late," I panted as I approached Lydia. She was seated gracefully at a table in a café.

"It's all right."

A waiter approached, and I ordered a hamburger. Lydia took a bite of her sandwich.

"On your face," she said, pointing to a spot on her own cheek. I raised my hand and felt a bit of toilet paper.

"Oh! Thank you."

She smiled and said, "You never answered my question."

"What question? I'm sorry, I suppose I'm still sleepy."

She laughed softly, and I was instantly endeared even more to her.

"What's your day job?"

I looked at her for a moment. "It's more of a 24/7 job. I'm a Naval officer."

"Really?" She said, and smiled. "And how long are you here for?"

I looked down at my food. "We leave tomorrow at noon."

Her smile disappeared, and we ate the rest of our meal in silence.

"Would you… would you like to spend the afternoon with me?" I asked.

"Oh… I can't. I'm sorry. I have to go back to work."

"All right…. When do you get out?"

"At about six."

"I'll be waiting, then."

She smiled. I paid the waiter, then walked her back to Macy's and spent the rest of the afternoon at the American Museum of Natural History.

"Good evening, Lydia," I said.

"Oh! Seska! I didn't see you."

"I'm sorry."

Another man was with her.

"Seska, this is John Bolle, a coworker. John, Seska, a friend of mine."

We shook hands and murmured greetings.

"How about O'Neill's?" Bolle said.

"I'm sorry, John, I can't have dinner with you. I promised Seska."

I smiled, and he looked murderously at me.

"Well, how about tomorrow?"

"I'm not sure. Good night, John."

Lydia and I began walking away as quickly as was possible through the thick crowds surrounding Macy's.

"Where shall we go now?" I asked.

"I don't know," she muttered distractedly.

"I have an idea," I said, and grinned.

"Oh dear. Where?"

"Come on!"

I took her on the F train, and during the long ride, she hardly said anything, and only smiled.

"We're going to Coney Island!" she said suddenly.

I grinned at her. "I went here every Friday in the summers when I was a kid."

"I've never actually been there."

We had a great time, on the rides, at the freak show, on the beach, on the boardwalk, at the mini-golf course, in the haunted house train, at the candy store, at the concession stands, at Juniors, and finally back on the train.

"I had a wonderful evening, Seska," she said.

"So did I." I looked away.

"What is it?"

"You looked beautiful tonight. You were having so much fun, and your face just lit up… I'm sorry, that was too forward."

"No…. Don't be sorry." She touched my face. I smiled gently.

I walked her home, but didn't return to my hotel that night.

Two days later, I was sitting in my stateroom, reading over a report on the engines. I was unable to concentrate on it, nor had I been able to on anything else since we left New York. I sighed and pushed it away, then rubbed my nose. I pulled a pad towards me to begin composing a memo to my first officer. After writing a few lines, I paused. I ripped off that page, and started a poem:

_Lydia, sur tes roses joues, _

_Et sur ton col frais et si blanc, _

_Roule étincelant_

_L'or fluide que tu dénoues. _

_Le jour qui luit est le meilleur: _

_Oublions l'éternelle tombe. _

_Laisse tes baisers de colombe _

_Chanter sur ta lèvre en fleur. _

_Un lys caché répand sans cesse _

_Une odeur divine en ton sein: _

_Les délices, comme un essaim, _

_Sortent de toi, jeune Déesse! _

_Je t'aime et meurs, ô mes amours! _

_Mon âme en baisers m'est ravie. _

_O Lydia, rends-moi la vie, _

_Que je puisse mourir toujours!  
_

_Lydia, over your rosy cheeks,_

_and over your neck, so fresh and white,_

_sparkling, rolls _

_the fluid gold that you untie._

_The day which is gleaming is the best:_

_let us forget the eternal tomb._

_Let your dove's kisses_

_sing on your blossoming lips._

_A hidden lily ceaselessly diffuses _

_a divine scent in your breast:_

_like a swarm, delights _

_escape from you, young Goddess!_

_I love you and am dying, o my loves!_

_My soul is ravished by kisses._

_O Lydia, give me back my life,_

_that I might die eternally!  
_

-Composer: Faure


End file.
